A Most Unlikely Story
by tubazrcool
Summary: What if Harry was at Draco's mercy? What if he liked it? What if it was a lie? What will Ron and Hermione say when they find out? HP/DM slash! Epilogue in the toss-up, but the story is finished.
1. Chapter 1

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 1

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned. If I forgot to disclaim anything else, I am sorry. This is my first slash in writing.

Warning: Sexual content, Mild Language, Harry/Draco

Author: tubazrcool

It was midnight when Harry finally fell asleep. He had lain in bed for the past couple of hours thinking of the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin. Apparently, his thoughts had leaked into a very weird dream from which he awoke confused and slightly embarrassed another couple of hours later. He put the dream out of head, it had been very disturbing. It involved Malfoy and himself, doing things he didn't want his mind going over again. He was preparing to fall asleep again, when he noticed something extremely embarrassing. He was hard -- not waking-up-hard, but sexually hard. He started to think again and knew he didn't want to fall back asleep just in case the dream reoccurred. Why would his mind think something like that?

Despite what he wanted, he fell back asleep. When he awoke though, he remembered the dream from last night, and was glad it hadn't reoccurred. He categorised it as a fluke incident and got dressed for Quidditch and breakfast. He went down to the Great Hall and helped himself to some toast with marmalade. When Draco entered the Great Hall, Harry immediately pushed back the dream, telling himself he in no way liked Malfoy. The guy was a git, no, correction, _is_ a git. The many insults flew to mind and reaffirmed his hatred, as well as his determination to catch the Snitch as soon as possible. But the more he forced himself to keep his mind on the Snitch and off Malfoy, the more he did the exact opposite. He had never before thought of Malfoy as attractive or anything more, for that matter. They were enemies. But his eyes had a way of ignoring his mind and frequently flicked to Malfoy. The more he thought about it, the harder he got.

'Whoa . . . mate,' Ron said, sitting next to him at the table. 'Who's the lucky lady?'

Harry looked up bewildered, and nodded in acknowledgement to Ron. When Ron's words finally sank in to his preoccupied brain, he looked up incredulously. 'What?'

Ron nodded pointedly toward Harry's groin, averting his eyes in added emphasis.

Still bewildered, Harry looked down to realise that, again, he had been physically hard -- hard enough that his erection could be seen clearly from the restraining confines of his trousers. His cheeks were burning as he tried to go along with Ron's comment. Faking shy, he shook his head, smiling, and tried to concentrate on his toast. Ron laughed and ignored it. Harry got up when he noticed Fred and George leaving towards the Quidditch pitch. Muttering a 'see you later' to Ron, he headed to the lockers where the Gryffindor Quidditch team had its usual pep-talk. This was the first one to which Harry listened since his first-ever game. By the time they had to mount their brooms, his erection was thankfully gone.

Draco had finally caught up with Potter, and was trailing him, going where he was. 'Hey, Potter,' Draco shouted. When Potter's eyes abruptly met his, Draco forgot for a moment why he had distracted him. By the time he had remembered, Potter had already seen the Snitch and was after it. While he zoomed after Potter, he thought of what his look had implied. It was as if Potter actually wanted to listen to what he said. And did he detect a certain interest or spark? He caught up with Potter and the two of them flew abreast. Potter veered upward, and Draco looked to where he was going.

_Hah, he fell for it._ Harry was glad the trick had worked. When Malfoy looked up at him, Harry dived sharply toward the Snitch, catching it moments later. There was a tumult of noise and applause from the Gryffindor stands. There was much booing from the Slytherin side. Before Harry could spot Malfoy again, he was surrounded by the entire Gryffindor team. 'Good job, Harry!' and 'Nice move on Malfoy there!' were some of the shouts he heard over the din that resounded in his ears. He managed a 'Thanks' loud enough to be heard by the immediate area. When Harry was back in Hogwarts (the game had been short enough for everyone to be back by lunchtime), he went up to his common room to relax and maybe work on homework or play chess or Gobstones with Ron.

He didn't know when it had happened, or when he felt it, Harry just knew he couldn't speak. Before he could get up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Malfoy came around a corner. 'Did you like humiliating me, Potter?' he asked softly. Harry was about to retort that he let himself be humiliated, when no sound came out. All he was able to do was glare at Malfoy. Malfoy grinned maliciously and grabbed Harry at the back of the neck, shoving him into a corridor wall. Removing Harry's wand, Malfoy dragged Harry a few corridors away. Harry decided the best alternative was to let Malfoy fall into a false satisfaction. He heard Malfoy mutter something and before he could try to grab his wand back, he was flung headfirst into what was, moments before, a tapestry. Harry found himself in a room; he was surrounded by stone walls, except for the opening he had just gone through and what seemed like a familiar cabinet tucked away in a corner. Malfoy muttered the same thing and the tapestry reappeared, covering the only escape route. Harry was confused and began to get up. 'Keep to your knees!' Harry looked up and saw Malfoy pointing his wand at him. Harry, Malfoy having already taken his wand, could do nothing to defend himself from this, so he unwillingly obeyed. His green eyes locked dangerously on Malfoy's grey ones and Malfoy sneered.

Draco liked seeing Potter on his knees before him. He walked toward Potter and knelt in front of him. He stroked Potter's cheek with his left hand, while his right pointed the wand into Potter's throat. At Potter's confused look, Draco grinned. 'Oh, Potter,' he said, stroking Potter's cheek with his thumb. 'Don't pretend you're not interested. You know you want me; I saw it in your eyes during the game.' Draco stared at him constantly, noting Potter's confused look.

Harry still thought this was gross, them being both men, and dreams meant nothing. He couldn't do this to Ron or Hermione – Malfoy was always insulting them. But Harry couldn't help feeling vulnerable, on his knees before his arch-nemesis. Malfoy got up and walked backward, his wand still pointing directly at Harry. Harry's eyes shifted to the wand and he kept his gaze there.

'Oh, Potter, you have no idea, do you?' Malfoy said, smiling, actually smiling, at Harry. Harry looked at him. Malfoy cast a silent spell which grounded Harry to the spot. He couldn't talk, and he was rooted to the floor. He could still shift uncomfortably and that was what he did. And he noticed he could still move his arms.

_Finally_, thought Draco, _Harry Potter is mine to control_. He placed both wands on the ground and walked back towards Potter. Kneeling and cupping Potter's face with both hands, he said, 'Potter, I've wanted you for a long time.'

Harry shook his head slightly, letting Malfoy know that he wanted no part in this. Malfoy kept talking to him, though. 'A very . . .' Malfoy kissed him on the cheek. ' . . . very . . .' Malfoy kissed him on the other cheek. ' . . . long time . . .' Harry was unprepared for his body's reaction when Malfoy kissed him on the lips.

_In the Gryffindor common room_

'Hoi, George!' Fred called out to his brother. 'Have you seen Harry anywhere? He hasn't been around since the game ended!' George shook his head and shrugged his shoulders all at once. The common room was alive with shouts and cheers as once again they defeated Slytherin in Quidditch. The Gryffindors were having a party, and people were starting to wonder where Harry was. Normally he was hanging around with Ron and Hermione after a game; judging by them looking up and around when Fred mentioned him, they didn't know either. Ron got up to check their room, but came back down the stairs a minute later, shaking his head. He motioned Hermione to follow him, and they headed out of the common room to look for him.


	2. Chapter 2

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 2

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned. If I forgot to disclaim anything else, I am sorry. This is my first slash in writing.

Warning: Sexual content, Adult Language, Harry/Draco

Author: tubazrcool

All he knew was that his chest rose with anticipation for what Malfoy would do next. Harry returned the kiss with full force and Malfoy deepened it; their hands were intertwined in each other's hair. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, and looking nowhere but in each other's eyes, telling each other this was not over, that they knew they wanted so much more. Harry's body was aching with arousal as Malfoy retrieved his wand. Watching Malfoy point it at him, he wondered what spell would be on him next. Not on, off, for Malfoy removed both. Harry heard Malfoy's wand drop to the floor and Malfoy was on him again, holding nothing back. Harry kissed Malfoy roughly, almost gasping with want when Malfoy initiated the use of tongues. With both of them pressing their own against the others', the want between the two heightened. It was Harry who pulled back this time. Malfoy leant forward, trying to keep kissing him. 'Hey,' Harry said between kisses, 'I think . . . it would be easier . . . with our clothes . . . off.' At the last word, Harry gave into Malfoy's advances and kissed him passionately. They shrugged out of their school robes, and, breaking for a moment, hurriedly undressed.

When they stood naked in front of each other, they both liked what they saw. They were both hard from the provocation. They were about the same size, in length and circumference, though, in actuality, Malfoy was slightly bigger. Malfoy walked forward and ran both his hands up Harry's sides. Harry gripped Malfoy's shoulders, his arms shaking. 'Draco,' Harry pleaded, 'I want you to shag the hell out of me.' Draco smiled and kissed Harry deeply, realising that was the first time Harry hadn't used his last name when addressing him.

'On one condition, Harry' Draco whispered in Harry's ear. At Harry's hesitant nod, he continued, 'that you return the favour.' Having finished his request, he kissed Harry hungrily on the neck. He could feel Harry nod emphatically and roughly slammed him into the smooth, stone wall. Draco turned Harry around to face the wall and put one hand on each of Harry's hips. Touching the tip of his penis with the opening of Harry's arsehole, he could hear Harry suck in air. He paused, and gently started pressing into it until Harry opened up.

As Draco slowly slid into him all the way, Harry cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, 'Holy Emrys!' Harry's insides were shaking. He reflexively pushed out as he felt uncomfortable with Draco's cock inside him. He found, however, that it lessened the pain and made it easier for Draco to slide into him. Harry gripped what he could of the stone, his fingernails digging into the edges, fighting the urge to give himself a wank, wanting to save his own pleasure for later. With each thrust, Harry could feel Draco's navel caress his arse. Draco's hands heightened this forbidden pleasure as they teased him. The Slytherin's long, slender fingers traced tantalising paths that seemed to lead closer and closer to touching Harry's painfully erect shaft; right before they could satiate the yearning feeling which stirred deep within Harry's stomach, they circled around his base and came to rest blazingly on Harry's shaking thighs. When Draco came and pulled out of him, Harry sank mercifully to the unrelenting ground, the impact on his knees hurting, but soon overlooked.

Draco knelt beside Harry, and bent over on all fours on the floor. 'It's your turn.' Harry immediately responded, knowing that if he didn't start soon, there wouldn't be any need. He leant over Draco, pushing his swollen tip slowly into the tight heat that promised him release, painstakingly able to allow Draco the same time to adjust to his size. Draco sucked air through his teeth, and tightened the muscles of his right arm. Harry waited, Draco being a little too constricting to allow for continuance. 'Draco,' Harry said. 'Push out.' Draco did as he was instructed. Harry felt it loosen a little and started thrusting into Draco's arse. Harry could feel the sexual desire that had been whirl-pooling within the depths of his soul, churning as they were denied an escape, reach the nadir of its existence, explode to a zenith, and burst forth, causing a wave of satisfaction to flood through him and into Draco.

Draco felt it hurt at first, but soon adjusted to this and started to think of how good it felt. After Harry came into him, they both relaxed on the ground, breathing heavily. Draco looked at Harry, who was looking up. Then he saw Harry turn to look in his eyes. They both smiled at each other, knowing that their friends would be shocked if they found out. 'So,' asked Draco, 'do you want to keep this a secret or put it out in the open?'

'A secret for now,' Harry said. 'I guess telling immediate friends wouldn't be bad, but to put it around the school would, no telling what the professors are going to say.'

Draco nodded. Having the entire school know would be bad, but he could tell Crabbe and Goyle, they wouldn't care. They probably wouldn't even understand him.

Draco and Harry got dressed into their magically-cleaned robes and then Draco walked out of the room after muttering the password. Harry heard it this time and put it into his memory. The two would definitely meet up here more often; they had talked about that; only on the weekends or it would raise too much suspicion. The two reached the end of the corridor and Draco backed Harry into a wall with a thud, and gave him one last demanding kiss. Harry pulled Draco in closer, not wanting this to end. They both tried to take more than they gave, and they broke apart suddenly when they heard a thud on the other side of the wall. Harry peered around to find Ron and Hermione with their backs to the wall. Ron seemed utterly shocked out of his mind, and Hermione asked him what was wrong. Ron shook his head.

'Hermione, trust me,' he pleaded. 'Go back to the common room and wait there.'

Hermione went to go around Ron and saw Harry standing there. Harry had had enough sense to motion Draco to hide. 'Oh,' she said, a little confused. 'Well, if you've found Harry, why don't we all go b . . .'

'Hermione, I just have to talk to him privately for a moment,' Ron said, his tone begging and warning her to leave at the same time.

Hermione was hesitant until Harry nodded for her to go to the common room. When they had seen her go around the corner, Ron turned to Harry with an incredulous expression that seemed to say 'what the fuck, mate?'

Harry shook his head. 'Look, it just started.' Ron closed his eyes and then looked at him. At that response, Harry was silent and felt guilty.

'How could you even think of doing something like that with _him_? The git insults my family and me every time we pass each other, calls Hermione a you-know-what, and has gotten us in a lot of trouble in the past. Did that just slip your mind?' Ron sounded hurt and angry, and Harry detected a sense of disappointment in his tone.

'It's not like that; we're still enemies, it's entirely physical.' Harry tried to explain to his friend the reason for his actions, but it came out as a lousy excuse.

'Well, your fans want to congratulate you on your win over the Slytherins, so let's head back to the common room.' Ron's words were almost spat out with disgust, and Harry knew better than to think this conversation was over. Any more delay, and Hermione would probably be coming back to look for them. And sure enough, before they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione came bouncing back down the stairs.

'I was waiting for you, what's wrong?' Hermione asked. 'Ron saw something going on, and pinned me against the wall before I could see.' Hermione had a feeling it was probably best she hadn't seen what was going on, but she was sure she could handle at least hearing about it.

'Oh, nothing's wrong!' Ron said. 'Except that Harry should start thinking with his head and not his libido!'

'What were you doing?' Hermione asked Harry disapprovingly. Harry shook his head.

'Ron,' Harry said a bit louder, and directing this next part to the both of them, 'I'll explain everything when there's no chance for us to be overheard.'

'What? Ashamed?' Ron asked in a fuming voice.

'I am now!' Harry shouted. He calmed his voice before continuing, 'You weren't there Ron; you don't know what it was like.'

'Nor do I ever want to know what it was like, but I hope you enjoyed it.' Ron left immediately after he finished speaking, and practically shouted the password at the portrait, which swung open so fast that it almost hit him.

Harry stared out after him, knowing he would get absolutely no support for this from him, and he doubted Hermione now. Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him around to look at her, looking at him with a 'you have some explaining to do' look. Harry nodded this time, and took her by the elbow. They walked up the stairs and said the password. The Fat Lady opened a bit slower this time, and the two crawled into the hole. They emerged into the common room. There was a mixture of some concerned looks by those who saw Ron come in and knew the two were friends, some whoops and shouts from those who had been waiting just for him, and the slam of a door which told Harry Ron had gone to the room. Harry smiled quickly at everyone before Hermione tugged at him to go up to the room.

When the three were in the room, Hermione put a more complicated locking spell on the door and soundproofed the room. 'Now, what the _hell_ is going on?' She sighed impatiently at the boys shocked expression. 'Yes, I cursed, and you'll hear a lot more soon if I don't know what's going on!'

Ron was the first to tell her. 'He was snogging Malfoy!'

Hermione beat them both with her shocked expression. 'Harry!' she shouted. 'Malfoy? You're completely mental! He's an arrogant, pompous brat! He insults the three of us, has gotten us . . .'

'I know!' Harry interjected. 'Like I told Ron, you weren't there, alright!' Harry shook his head for what felt like the millionth time that day, confused about his feelings.

Ron spoke up with a question that caught Harry off guard completely. 'Do you choose him or us, Harry?'

Harry looked at Ron, and then Hermione. Both looked serious about this. 'Well that's obvious -- you guys.' His tone sounded almost defeated. 'I'll tell Draco it's off when I see him next.'

'So now it's _Draco_?' Ron spat. No more was said after Hermione removed the spells and left with Ron out of the room. Harry sat down on his bed and pulled the covers around him, not caring about the time of day.

Harry had homework to complete the next day and didn't leave the library except to eat. Hermione and Ron swore not to speak to him until Harry finalised the meetings with Malfoy. It wasn't until midday a week after they first hooked up that Harry remembered he hadn't told Draco. He saw Draco at the tapestry and Draco saw him. Draco pulled Harry in for a kiss and they both clung passionately to each other. At a small break, Draco muttered the password and they entered the room.

'You're brilliant, Hermione!' Ron said. Hermione had shown him what she had been up to that week in her spare time. She held up a medium-sized oval of glass that had a slightly broader profile view of Harry and, during the last couple of minutes, Draco.

'It follows Harry, and now we can know if he's really going to stop seeing Malfoy. We can hear his conversations, as well.' She set in a stand she had made for it and they watched -- well, Hermione watched, and Ron just checked occasionally -- both seething, as Harry and Draco continued snogging.

_Harry turned his head away from Malfoy, who continued to kiss Harry's neck, sometimes scraping his teeth across the flesh. Harry started to sink to the floor, but rose up to meet Malfoy, and kiss him. Harry then turned his head and walked a couple steps away from Malfoy, before running his hands through his hair. Malfoy came up behind him and kissed him gently on the neck._

'_It's all right, Harry. What is it?'_

'_I can't do this with you, Draco,' Harry said. 'I want to, but I can't.'_

'_Weasley and Granger?' Malfoy asked._

_Harry nodded._

'_So, this is it, huh?' Malfoy was starting to sound impatient, but he seemed to calm down a bit as he snaked around Harry and encircled Harry's waist with his arms, letting his hands rest on the curve of Harry's arse. 'You know, why don't you just say you ended it, but we still meet up here now and then, irregularly?'_

_Harry shook his head. 'They're my friends, Draco, and they mean a lot to me. All things considered, we should quit.'_

_Malfoy nodded and then kissed Harry. It looked as if Harry was going to continue it, but he abruptly turned and walked out of the tapestry. When he was in the hallway, he leant his head against the wall and slammed it back in frustration. He turned back toward the tapestry, his left shoulder still pressing against the stone, and placed his palm on the wall, wishing he could be with Draco. He suddenly backed away from the wall and turned to go down the corridor. Then he turned again and walked a few steps back toward the tapestry and Draco, before seeming to make up his mind and turn around to head back once more._

Ron looked at Hermione. 'I think we should apologise,' Hermione said, Ron giving a nod, his expression unchanging, telling her somehow that he had been thinking the same thing. They both hurried to where they had found Harry last week and saw him walking, depression in his eyes. Hermione flung her arms around him and burst out sobbing. 'We're so sorry, Harry!' she managed through her tears. Harry looked down at Hermione, then up at Ron. Hermione told him what she had done and what they had seen. 'Go back! If it means that much to you, then we don't mind!' Harry looked at Ron, who nodded, and hugged Hermione right back.

'Thank you.' He practically took off at a run in the direction from which he had come. He didn't see Draco in the hallway, but went into the room after muttering the password. The tapestry disappeared and Harry saw Draco on his knees, tears streaming slowly through his closed eyes and down his cheeks. He rushed through the door and put his arms comfortingly around him.

Draco looked up sharply when he felt someone's arms around him. It was Harry. He went up to kiss him and Harry returned it passionately. 'What made you change your mind, Harry?' he asked through tears which he quickly wiped.

Harry quickly summarised what Hermione had done and told Draco that the two decided to accept their relationship. When he was done, he breathed out a sigh of relief that there would be no more secrets where Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Harry were concerned.


	3. Chapter 3

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 3

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned. If I forgot to disclaim anything else, I am sorry. This is my first slash in writing.

Warning: Sexual content, slight kinkiness, Harry/Draco

Caution: Plot Development . . . scary, I know

Author: tubazrcool

_Where we left off_

Draco smiled at Harry, glad they could be together. Draco kissed Harry again, and it got a little rough, leading from one thing to another until he lay breathlessly on the floor beside Harry. 'Oh,' he gasped. 'This feels so right! I guess they were right when they said "opposites attract."' He watched Harry smile and realised that he would never again hate him. They had been too intimate over the past week. He decided he didn't feel like insulting Harry's friends anymore, not after they accepted their relationship.

Harry felt great. He couldn't agree with Draco more about this feeling so right. His stomach was hurting a bit, but in a good way. He moved his hand on top of Draco's and they stayed holding hands for quite some time.

_In the common room again_

'Just promise us this, Harry, no details!' Ron nudged his friend in the shoulder after he had come back from his "meeting" with Draco.

'Well, at least you two are _almost_ doing it correctly!' Hermione said, a mischievous grin on her face.

'How do you know what they did?' Ron quipped. At a 'how do you think' glance from Hermione, he yelped, 'Hermione, that's sick! You didn't erase the charm? And how can you see their bodies, I thought it just reflected the head?' Ron closed his eyes for a moment, disgusted at himself for not coming up with a better, less "hidden message", phrase.

'I panned out the view,' Hermione explained, bypassing the double entendre. 'And, besides, I just want to make sure they're doing it properly. They could hurt themselves . . . front and back . . . if they're not careful.' When she said 'front and back,' she got a grin from Harry, but a rather disgusted look from Ron. 'It's not as if I don't know what one looks like anyway.' With incredulous looks from both Ron and Harry, she added, 'I've read books on it.'

'What books don't you read, Hermione?' Ron asked.

'Well, I happen to think it's good to be well-informed on a variety of topics. I read everything I can. Unlike some people, I can actually develop what is known as an "open mind."'

Ron shook his head, not believing that it was Hermione saying all this. Hermione, the perfect one, was reading sex books. He was sure Harry was thinking the same thing. Harry had grinned when Hermione had said the word "open."

'It was in a collective book,' she continued. 'It's not as if I picked that particular subject. It was a rather nice read, if you want to borrow it.' At Ron's 'are you mad' look, she turned her question to Harry, who eagerly nodded his head. Ron threw up his hands and opened his Charms textbook to study for an upcoming exam. Hermione went to retrieve the book. Harry sat and watched the unlit fireplace until Hermione came back down with two books in one hand.

'You have two?' Harry asked.

'No, the other one's a Charms book we're supposed to get in our seventh year.' She handed him the bigger of the two books and warned him in a low tone. 'It's pretty detailed – the writing and the pictures.'

Harry thanked her and started reading. He opened to the table of contents and looked for homosexuality. Finding that, he turned to the designated page, reading the different techniques guys could use to pleasure each other. He hadn't known there could be so many.

Whenever Harry had the time over the next week – not in class, doing studies, or around a lot of people – he read the book. There were certain spots that could stimulate a guy and different things to do to each other. He actually got rather excited about giving Draco a blowjob, but he didn't want to hurt him. There was a section in the book about what not to do and Harry read through that thoroughly. Some of the pointers were no-brainers, such as not to use teeth, not to apply too much pressure to the testicles, and so on. But one of the tips caused Harry to make a "whoops" expression with his mouth. He read over the line again. _Never enter a man's rectum without applying charms or a lubricant – lotion, cum, saliva, potion, or gel – as the tissue may rip if too dry._ Well, he didn't think Draco or he had been ripped; he hadn't noticed any blood. However, he wasn't taking any chances. He read over another passage that told him there was a vein at the base of the penis that, if sucked, would be very pleasurable.

He closed the book and went up to his dormitory, noticing Hermione's house-elf hats. He shook his head and grinned. Then an idea came to him. He silently whispered 'Dobby!' and the little house-elf appeared, looking very happy and wearing a tower of Hermione's hats and loads of socks.

Dobby bowed and squeaked, 'Hello, Harry Potter!'

Harry smiled. 'Dobby, I was just wondering if it wouldn't be too much trouble to get me a fresh carrot. I'm a little hungry.' He had thought something more realistic, like an ear of corn or a cucumber would have been more suspicious.

'Yes, Harry Potter, sir, Dobby would be delighted. Harry Potter saved Dobby's life. Dobby is grateful, sir.' Then he had disappeared and soon reappeared with a fresh carrot in hand. 'I hopes Harry Potter enjoys his midnight snack.'

'Ta, Dobby,' Harry said, taking a bite from the small end so he didn't look as if he was waiting for Dobby to leave. But as soon as he had finished his sentence Dobby had been off and Harry continued up the stairs. He opened the door as silently as possible and closed it with just as much wariness. The other four had gone to bed earlier and Harry climbed into bed, drawing the curtains close, again careful of the noise. He heard someone call his name.

'Yeah, Ron?' he whispered, as loud as he dared.

'You and . . . you know . . . you're both happy?' Ron sounded as if he was still iffy on the subject.

'Yeah, real happy,' Harry said. 'But you and Hermione come first, you know that, right, mate?'

'Yeah, Harry,' Ron replied, sounding relieved. 'I know.'

Harry turned to go to sleep, but remembered his carrot. He decided to get comfortable licking it before he wanted to put it entirely in his mouth. He found that it sort of aroused him every time his tongue ran tentatively up and down the length of the vegetable. He could feel his momentum building as he kept licking the carrot. He flipped the carrot so that the thick part was on top. The momentum kept increasing and the desire to start sucking soon overtook him. His mouth covered the top of the carrot and he started to suck on it. He only went further after he was comfortable with the current depth. He soon went too far, which caused him to gag. He tried to muffle his cough/gag, holding his blanket to his mouth with his hand. He tried to think how he would be able to get over that in seven days. He then inspected the carrot for any scrapes that his teeth may have made, and only noticed two small specks of peeling. He decided to try that again tomorrow night. He slowly chewed the carrot and then went to sleep.

_In the Great Hall for breakfast_

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting on the bench – in that order – and talking to each other. 'Hermione,' Harry asked in her ear, 'how am I supposed to stop gagging?' Hermione presently coughed up a bit of her toast in startled surprise.

'Err . . . practise makes perfect?' she said with a smile and a blush, not knowing what exactly to say. She turned her head back to keep reading the Charms book.

Harry nodded, knowing that he should probably do just that -- practise. He flicked his eyes over to the Slytherin's table every now and then, discreetly looking for Draco. He didn't see him and thought he may have already finished or not come down yet. Hermione and Ron got up from the table, and Harry got up with them, remembering that there were classes to go to today. The trio headed to Professor McGonagall's classroom for Transfiguration, where he got five points taken away from Gryffindor for not paying attention. He was actually wondering where Draco could have been. He was just about to tell himself that they had Double Potions today and he would see him there when Professor McGonagall yelled at him. After the bell rang for Transfiguration to get out, Harry and Ron went up the flight of stairs to Divination, leaving Hermione to her Arithmancy class. Professor Trelawney was just as weird as usual, but Harry noticed a slight look of surprise in her face when she passed him as she moved around the class. She didn't even dish out death predictions about him. After that gruelling double period, they travelled back to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry didn't catch Draco at lunch either, and was sort of worried for his blonde-haired lover.

As the trio descended to the dungeons, they took their places in class, setting up their cauldrons in the regular spots. Snape entered a short while later, his robes billowing in his wake. He turned around and lazily flicked his wand at the board. Directions for a rather complicated (two-person) potion magically appeared out of nowhere and Snape started pairing them up, Gryffindor with Slytherin. Ron went with Crabbe, Hermione went with Bulstrode, Seamus went with Goyle, Dean went with Zabini, and Harry was delighted, though he didn't show it, when Snape paired him with Malfoy. A quick look around showed that Malfoy wasn't in class. He was about to raise his hand and point that out to Snape when Malfoy stormed into the classroom, his appearance rather dishevelled. Everyone looked at him curiously, even Snape. Draco walked up to the Potions professor and whispered in his ear. Snape nodded and Draco took his seat in the classroom.

'What is everyone staring at? Get back to your assignment!' Snape shouted at the class.

Harry walked over to Draco, carrying his bag. He started setting up for the assignment. 'Snape paired us together,' he said quietly. Harry read over the ingredients and got them out of his bag. He started measuring them and putting them into the cauldron as was instructed. 'Are you all right?' Harry asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Draco turned toward Harry, not answering him. Snape made his usual rounds about the class, commenting on the students work. He praised the Slytherins, and degraded the Gryffindors, taking double points off when Seamus' cauldron exploded -- ten for his idiocy, and another ten for ruining Goyle's grade. He turned to walk toward Harry and Draco's cauldron and didn't see Seamus give him the finger behind his back. With Seamus' knack for blowing things up, though, not one Slytherin dared to tell on him.

'How bad have you botched the potion up this time, Potter?' Snape said. He peered in expecting a foul-smelling wrong-coloured potion, and was surprised to find that the potion was actually at the right stage. It was a navy blue colour and it smelt mouth-wateringly as delicious as honey. Snape noticed that Draco had not done anything since he walked in, but knew that the news he received was very bad indeed. But still he said, 'Nice work, Draco. No doubt you've taught Potter well. I just hope he might be able to retain this information.'

Potions ended and for the first time, Harry thought he might have gotten an 'Outstanding" on his potion. It had been the same as Hermione's – she had told him so when she had come over to inspect after class. The only reason Harry had tried so hard was because he knew Draco's grade would suffer if he didn't. And he didn't want that.

Draco rushed by Harry and muttered 'I'll explain tomorrow night.' Harry had given a start when Draco whispered in his ear. He caught Draco's eye for a moment and gave a quick nod. They had only been with each other a few times, and already Harry was concerned for him.

It felt like a lifetime until Harry and Draco met at the appointed time the next night. 'Draco, what happened yesterday?' He could see Draco shift uncomfortably, trying to keep his emotions in check.

'I received a missive from my _beloved_ father; it contained certain information that involved me joining him and . . . trapping you.' Draco turned toward the raven-haired Gryffindor with a pleading look in his eyes, begging him silently to forgive his relations, wanting him to know he would do anything to keep what was between them alive.

Harry saw the look in his lover's silvery eyes and instinctively went to his side, holding him to his own body, letting him know that there was a passion between them. Giving his tear-stained face a loving glance and kissing him. He broke it only to clasp him firmly in a re-assuring embrace. How he loved these Saturday's with Draco. Wait . . . he went to classes today . . . it was Tuesday, not Saturday. His mind was racing into panic mode before he could logically reason this out. Draco wouldn't do this . . . this was serious, wasn't it . . . it wasn't a deception. His heart started to sink. 'You said no, right?' His voice was shaking; their bodies still pressed to one another.


	4. Chapter 4

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 4

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned. If I forgot to disclaim anything else, I am sorry. This is my first slash in writing.

Warning: Harry/Draco

A/N: Sorry this one's short, but the ending is right where I want it.

Author: tubazrcool

Draco broke the hug forcefully and wiped the streaks off his face, all the while telling himself Harry meant nothing to him, telling himself that this was what he had been doing all along. Luring Harry. But his heart refused to accept that. _I love you, Harry . . . I always will._ 'Guess again, Potter,' he smirked, speaking in the evil, calculating drawl he was used to.

Harry was floored by this revelation. He saw Draco holding both wands, his own hawthorn pointing at Harry, while the holly-and-phoenix-feather dangled loosely from the other hand. Just like the first time. His mind kept going over their encounters, searching for some sign or clue that would have been a warning sign. _How could I have been so stupid! He was playing me all along!_ 'You're sick, Malfoy,' Harry said. _He seduced me for the sole purpose of turning me into the Death Eaters . . . to Voldemort. Wandless._ 'You're foul, and you need help. You've really reached a new low.' The pure hatred in his voice was the only thing he could think of doing so Malfoy couldn't tell how hurt he was at the betrayal. _No_, he thought, _betrayal was too light a word. To put it better, Malfoy was fucking Judas Iscariot. So, what, that makes me Christ? No, that was just how far Malfoy would go to gain the upper hand. Unlike Judas, though, Malfoy would feel no remorse for his sins. And fuck me if Malfoy would hang himself for this._ With that, Harry thought back to how wonderful it had actually felt with Malfoy in his arms or him in Malfoy's arms. He shook his head to clear it. (As everyone knows, these sort of thoughts all seem to ramble and jumble themselves into one giant thought, and all of it takes place in split seconds.) 'So, it was just a trap the entire time, wasn't it?'

It hurt Draco more than he could ever say to smirk cruelly and give a brief nod. 'Of course, Potter! What?! You actually thought I had feelings for you. You should have listened to yourself that first day, Potter. Like you told the Weasel, it was just physical. Hormones and whatnot . . . casual sex . . . bodies being stimulated. It was nothing, Potter. Nothing real, just what I needed to do for you to _think_ I actually cared. A trap!' Behind his façade of hatred, Draco knew that his words were hurting Harry. He kept his mask of cruelty up, even though he wanted nothing more than to just make love to the man standing in front of him.

'When are your _comrades_ coming to get me, then?'

'As soon as I call them, actually. You know, Potter, for what it's worth, you were almost a decent shag.' _More than decent. _He let his thoughts fade into the passionate moments they had shared. He mentally shook himself. _Get a grip!_ It took all of Draco's resolve to keep his outer image, to not break down.

Malfoy's words stung Harry to his core. Malfoy turned and moved toward the cabinet and started muttering in a hurried voice, his wand still pointing at Harry. Harry then realised where he had seen the cabinet. He had been twelve, in a shop he never wanted to enter again. He was only there because he had come out of the wrong grate when he used the Floo network for the first time. He thought that it was somewhat ironic that he had once hid in that cabinet from Malfoy. Then a question entered his mind. _How had Draco managed to get the cabinet in the castle, surely Filch would have detected and confiscated it?_ Unless there were two! Harry hated being duped like this and fought to gain the upper hand somehow. And if he couldn't, then he would settle for just making Malfoy squirm. As Malfoy pocketed Harry's wand, and walked over, pulling Harry roughly up by the scruff of his neck, Harry desperately racked his brain for something to throw him off guard. 'Are you sure smuggling me into Borgin & Burkes is the answer, Malfoy?'

_What? How had he known where the other cabinet was?_ Draco flicked his wand toward Harry, causing the Gryffindor's arms to snap to his sides. Giving the outward impression that Harry's words had no effect, Draco kept dragging Harry toward the cabinet.

Harry realised then that he was seriously in trouble. If Malfoy didn't care that Harry knew where he was going then it wasn't of that much importance. Malfoy threw open the double wooden doors of the cabinet, shoving Harry into its depths. As Harry stumbled blindly through to the other side, his eyes grew wide, and he reflexively shrunk back from the cold demeanour of Lucius Malfoy.


	5. Chapter 5

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 5

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 5

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned. If I forgot to disclaim anything else, I am sorry. This is my first slash in writing.

Warning: Harry/Draco; pain, lots and lots of pain

A/N: Starting where we left off, because I don't want hate mail LOL! On second thought . . .

_In the Gryffindor common room_

'Where's Harry?' Ron asked Hermione. She shrugged, but smiled slightly, letting Ron know where she thought he was. Ron simply rolled his eyes and shivered. 'Thanks, Hermione,' he said sarcastically.

'Not a problem,' she replied, doing her best to keep an innocent tone and expression, the last of which faltered in matter of seconds. 'Though, if he wants my help, he'll know to get back early enough. Let's you and I start on it. Get your books,' she ordered, going upstairs to retrieve her own.

'Sure,' Ron replied, dragging his feet on the steps up to the boys' dormitory. He mentally reminded himself to beat Harry to death for not providing him a way out. _I promised Harry a chess game . . . or Gobstones . . . Harry was going to help me on my flying technique. But no, bloody bastard gets it easy._

If Ron had actually known what was going on, he would have had to retract that last statement.

As he picked up his bag, he heard a scream coming from outside his dorm. Dropping the burden, he rushed out of the door and down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste to find out what had happened. The many students in the common room were frozen in horror; some snapped out of their daze to point up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Some of the girls were already on their way up. Ron was incredulous at the guys who just sat there or stood near the staircase. One of them even had the audacity to pull him away from running up the stairs. He recognised the person as Dean and tried to shove him off.

Dean struggled a bit with the furious Ron, whispering 'The staircase is charmed, mate, only girls can use it,' in his ear. Ron seemed to stop struggling, but he was still breathing heavily, his body trying to compensate for the amount of energy spent in such a short span of time.

Up in the girl's dormitory, however, Lavender and Parvati were comforting a much shaken Hermione. She was crying and shaking her head when as they kept asking her what was wrong. Ginny and some of the other younger girls were standing around, worried for their fellow Gryffindor. When she had calmed down enough, she mumbled something about needing to see Ron and headed aimlessly for the door, holding something in her hand. The girls tried to catch a peek but none of them could make out what it was entirely.

Ron was literally bouncing on his toes when Hermione finally appeared at the top of the stairs. It was obvious she'd been crying by the puffiness of her eyes. She walked down the steps as though she were unsure whether to go fast or slow. When she was finally within grabbing distance, Ron almost dragged her out of the common room. When the portrait had swung closed, Ron asked her what was wrong.

She handed him the glass oval and Ron tentatively looked at it. His confused, hesitant look quickly turned into a shocked, scared one, and Hermione just hugged him close, crying. Ron shoved the glass into his robe pocket and hugged her back.

'We have to go to . . .'

'. . . to Dumbledore,' Hermione nodded, finishing her friend's thought.

_Where we left off_ (happy now?)

Lucius reached his hand out and grabbed Harry, before flinging him across the dusty, dirty floor. Half a dozen Death Eaters were standing around, wands pointing at Harry. 'There's no where to run, Harry.' The cold silk of his voice washed over Harry and Harry's breath caught in his chest. He tried to turn around and face him, meeting the sharp strike of a black cane, and he twisted once more, spitting his blood on wooden planks.

A rough jolt and a nauseating sensation later, Harry was kneeling in the same spot he had been two years ago. Looking around the graveyard, he noticed the statue right in front of him.

'Harry,' whispered the voice of malice.

He could feel his insides shaking, the shiver slither up his spine, tingling the hairs on his nape, and he turned. His green eyes met red, and Harry took a step back. The statue activated as soon as Harry's foot landed on the stony base. The scythe snapped him back and his head hit the unyielding façade of the hooded sculpture. He blinked away the encroaching blackness, but almost wished it hadn't obeyed him.

'Let's play a little game, ssshall we?' Voldemort was trying him, testing him, teasing him. Harry concentrated on his thoughts as hard as possible, wanting to block whatever Voldemort was saying. Try as he may he still heard the next six words. 'My personal favourite . . . torture the victim.'

The Death Eaters stood in a circle. Harry noticed the younger Malfoy standing by the elder. Like father, like son. They all had their masks off and were smiling to one another. Torturing was their greatest love. They made no move, however; they knew to let Voldemort have the first strike.

'_Crucio_!'

Harry writhed in pain, unable to move freely, the long pole of the scythe digging into his throat, preventing him from having a steady supply of air. His internals were burning and his limbs were twitching involuntarily. His legs gave out; the only thing supporting his weight was the cold stone of the statue's scythe digging into throat. His lungs were on fire, desperately seeking oxygen as the only thing Harry could do was scream. Scream . . . and tremble.

The curse lifted, and Harry fought to breathe in the welcome air. He slowly, painfully, lifted his arms and gripped the shaft of the scythe. At least it would give him something to which he could transfer some pain. 'A sssmall sssampling, Harry. You will find I can be merccciful.' Harry then realised he was learning a whole new meaning for pain. He was going to end up going insane from the torture techniques.

'_Cultrihallucinatus_!'

It felt as though someone had split his stomach open with a searing-hot blade in slow motion. Going centimetre by centimetre, the knife was burning him mercilessly. Despite his objection, his eyes were watering: from pain, from frustration, from deception, from suffering. His screams of protest echoed throughout the graveyard. His lungs had run out of air and the knife was only halfway finished with its work of devilry. His arms were shaking, tightened in pain, trying to maintain his weight, his legs having given up long ago. His screams were silent now, if one could call them screams. As soon as any air rushed into his lungs, it was expelled in groans or held in as shock washed over him. Before his mind slipped into a relief from the pain, the knife was pulled out; all that was left were the sensations of agony. Again, he gulped in as much air as possible. His diaphragm seemed to be in working condition; then he remembered the _"hallucinatus"_ at the end of the curse.

He groaned; Voldemort was sure to know an arsenal of spells, especially pain curses. As the man glared at him through his slit-like eyes, Harry thought he saw a smile twist its way into existence on the waxy countenance.

'Harry . . .' the cold voice called. 'Do you know what I'm going to do next?'

Harry gave a sigh and shrugged. He could give the loon a suggestion. 'Go to hell?'

The sound of high laughter grated throughout Harry's body and he made a mental note to never cause Voldemort to laugh again. Releasing the discordant noise with a shiver, he continued. 'Damn, apparently not.'

'Oh, Harry. If only you would join me, you and I could do great thingsss together. Our wandsss are brothersss, you mussst know that. If only they could be united.'

'My reply to you is the same as when I was in first year. You can take _your_ wand and shove it up your arse.'

The instant rage surfaced and Harry felt wonderfully-brief pain from the Cruciatus. 'That'sss where your insssultsss will get you, Harry Potter.'

(I'm getting tired of writing the three "sss"'s every time the sound is made, so if you could just elongate the sound for me whenever it pops up, it would be much appreciated.)

'So, where will my praises get me?' Harry thought it best to stall him as long as possible, trying to come up with any type of plan. A slight chuckle and Voldemort trained his wand on Harry. He breathed in, deeply and quickly, bracing himself for another curse.

'You can't deceive me, Harry,' Voldemort said, his voice silky, low, and every bit intimidating.

Harry had had his family ripped from him when he was one. He had seen a Hogwarts student been stripped of life by the man standing in front him and his godfather stricken by the unforgivable curse by the solitary woman in the crowd around him. He had passed through many obstacles only to face Voldemort himself, fought a basilisk only to be poisoned by its venom, driven off scores of dementors and fell victim to their chilling aura, battled the most feared wizard of the world twice. The first time, Harry had been here, in the graveyard, in constant confusion, torn by his want to flee, but left with no choice but to fight. The second time, Voldemort had invaded his very mind; he had forced him to relive the most terrible events of his life. Yet, somehow, he had managed to push through all the pain. But one thing had always stuck with him. Harry Potter realised that no matter how much he hated the bastard that had caused him and others so much grief, he feared him.

(Monte Cristo moment) 'Do your worst!' Harry said, knowing Voldemort would be sure to take him up on the challenge.

'I shall . . . in good time. Lucius!' Voldemort called.

The man stepped forward and bowed to the Dark Lord. 'Yes, my lord.'

'Why don't you show our guest our finest appetisers?'

'I live only to serve, master,' Lucius said, his head bent the while he stood up. He turned it upward to look into Harry's eyes. An evil smile twisted its way onto the elder Malfoy's countenance.

'_Locomotor Mortis_,' Lucius shouted, his wand directed at Harry.

Harry's legs snapped together and refused to move. He wondered why Lucius would have chosen such a simple spell for torture. He soon realised it had been just a precautionary tactic.

'_Acicaduceus_.' Lucius walked up to Harry and, pressing the tip of his wand against the fabric of his shirt, slit the material from collar to hem with relative ease. He backed away and made a slashing motion with his wand. Harry felt his chest being sliced open and he let out a yell of pain.

'_Episkey_,' was said and the wound healed over, again leaving a memory of the pain, but also blood, streaking down his stomach from the now-closed wound. Lucius continued in this manner: slashing at various parts of his body, healing the wounds moments later. The simple clean cuts were interspersed with intricate movements that created rune-like shapes in his flesh. There were some instances where he _Accio_-ed the fleshy cut-out, ripping it away.

Harry couldn't even remember when it had started, but he felt relief when Voldemort whispered 'Enough.' His relief was short-lived when he called forth the next Death Eater, the only female.

If there was one person that deserved the same amount of rage from Harry as he gave Voldemort, it was her. She had killed his godfather, helped torture his friend's parents into insanity, and practically enjoyed pain.

When she cast her first _Crucio_, Harry almost wished that Voldemort had been the caster. The pain was overwhelming, and he felt his mind slipping from its current state of consciousness. He was twitching involuntarily even after the curse had been lifted from him. The next was double the intensity, and Harry could swear every fibre of his being was on fire, burning in the flames of hell itself. His eyes watered from the pain, and the sweat was making them blurry and equally fiery. She kept it on him for what felt like fifteen minutes, but was in fact a fifth of that. There was no scream left in him; he was just shaking now. After the third Cruciatus, Harry stopped all twitching, all groaning; he just hung there, his hands giving the only sign he was even alive; the muscles of his hands were constricted around the scythe's pole in an impossible grip. His eyes were no longer focussed on anything; eerily, they just stared ahead.

'Thank you, Bellatrix, that will be all,' Voldemort said. The woman bowed and went back to stand in the circle.


	6. Chapter 6

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 6

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned.

Warning: pain, lots and lots of pain . . . oh, and you have to wait for the next part.

A/N: Enjoy the second to last chapter! Will hopefully update on Monday! Keep your fingers crossed.

Harry didn't remember closing his eyes – didn't even remember being free from pain. All Harry could remember was burning. An ardent sensation that had crept through his entire body and snaked its way into his mind. The back of his head was a throbbing jumble of headiness and confusion.

But, nevertheless, he awoke, experiencing a sore ache in his muscles. His body was still suspended from the hooded statue and his legs and arms could barely take any more abuse. _Hah!_ he thought, _so much for that._He looked around and found one person staring back at him. It was Voldemort.

'Good morning, Harry,' Voldemort said, sarcasm and hate dripping from the words as thickly as blood. Harry was repulsed by the utter sight of Voldemort's red, bloodshot eyes as they burned into his own.

He wrenched his gaze away from the sadistic bastard who had ruined so many lives and settled for engaging in a staring contest with a single blade of grass. The grass had the faintest trace of blood spotting its thin, lithe form. The tip of it was browned, from deadness or dried blood, Harry wasn't sure.

'Now, now, Harry,' Voldemort chided. 'Let's not be rude; I said 'good morning.''

Harry took in as deep a breath as he could, trying to calm himself. 'Good morning.' With that, he steeled himself and looked directly into Voldemort's eyes with his own murderous gaze.

Voldemort was quickly shocked by Potter's abrupt defiance, but a part of him rejoiced in the knowledge that after so many years of dancing around the boy's life, he had finally been able to effect the boy. Now was the chance to persuade him to join his ranks. He could see that; so many times before he had attempted to do so, why even the previous night, but it was at this time that Voldemort was confident the boy would surrender.

Slowly walking up to the raven-haired youth so violently immobilised, Voldemort never broke the eye contact, even when Potter's loathing stare turned into a confused one. He took out his wand and trailed the tip of it alongside Potter's face and down his neck, curving it to draw an invisible line down the middle of his torso.

There was nothing Harry could do as the wand drifted lower and lower; he sucked in his breath as the tip brushed across his navel. When this happened, the cold touch of the wood lost contact with Harry's warm body.

Voldemort smiled evilly; he knew exactly how to break Potter. 'Join me, Harry.' His voice was a whisper as the words slipped effortlessly out of his mouth.

Harry could only shake his head negatively. Voldemort circled to Harry's right, dodging the scythe's blade and stepping onto the statue's base, closer to him. Voldemort's next words were spoken in his ear in a hiss. 'No one is around to save you, Harry. No one to see what I could do to you; no one to hear your whimpers and pleas for mercy. Just surrender to me. I will make you – one way or another.'

Harry had literally stopped breathing in and out as the seductive voice of Parseltongue washed through him. His eyes were open in shock; he trembled in trepidation as Voldemort's icy fingers stole the heat from Harry's bare waist as they ghosted up his side. Harry shivered away in disgust, twisting his body as far away from the man's reach as he possibly could while pinned helplessly . . .

Helpless. He was utterly fucking helpless against the man's vile advances. Voldemort circled back around to the front of him and undressed him fully with a few waves of his wand. The damp chill hit Harry with a sudden force and he was involuntarily shaking due to the wet coldness that seeped into his body. He watched as Voldemort smirked and stepped closer to him. He watched as Voldemort stretched his long fingers out to stroke his skin. He watched as Voldemort stepped up to him, mere centimetres away from his naked, shivering body.

He was so busy watching Voldemort that he failed to take notice of a lone figure approaching the snake-like man from behind.

***

Dumbledore called for an immediate gathering of Order members and Aurors. When everyone available had Floo-ed their way to his office, he disclosed the events to the alert wizards and witches.

'Harry Potter has been taken from within this very school by unknown means. However, we do know his exact location due to Miss Granger's ingenious, yet,' he paused to look into her eyes, 'mischievous, creation.'

'Well then, where is he?' Molly Weasley had spoken up, baffled that the man could remain calm while Harry was out-of-bounds and in danger of being kidnapped.

'He has been captured by Death Eaters and is currently in the presence of Lord Voldemort.' There were only a few gasps due to Dumbledore's sudden mention of You-Know-Who's name.

'Then why are we here? You could have just told us to Apparate on location. Where is he, old man? And no riddles!' Angry murmurs of assent accompanied Shacklebolt's outrage.

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile a little at the Auror's choice of words. 'Ah, but sadly, I can not make such a promise, as there must be at least one more riddle,' he said, his eyes twinkling in mirth.

'Dumbledore, please,' Tonks said, knowing the man was senile, but begging him to disclose Harry's whereabouts.

'Harry is being held at the graveyard near Riddle Manor' – there were groans of exasperation as they realised Dumbledore's meaning behind his previous statement – 'Young Mr. Malfoy has sent me a memory of the location for our travelling purposes.' He retrieved a vial from within the folds of his robes and walked toward the cupboard where he kept his Pensieve. 'We must decide on the correct method of attack. We can't just arrive and start firing curses.'

He tipped the contents of the tiny, glass jar into the large bowl and stood back while the image rose above the surface and panned out, allowing everyone to see the landscape. Once it had completed its circle the image dissipated and Dumbledore closed the cabinet doors.

'We must choose a spot closer to the forest, hiding among the trees, to avoid being noticed suddenly. It is likely that Harry could be in a precarious condition, so negotiations might have to be made. Everyone must remain calm and focus on the task at hand. Let us be off.'

With that said, Dumbledore Apparated himself to the surprisingly desolate graveyard. There was no one in sight and he faintly motioned for those directly behind him to be silent.

He walked closer to the statue, thinking people may be behind the foreboding structure. He listened carefully for any signs of breathing ahead of them and discovered two sets of respiration. But what scared him was that there were three sets of heartbeats. He sped up, but there was no way he could make it in time to block the curse. He stopped, frozen in his tracks, when he heard the two fateful words of imminent death and saw the bright flash of green light.


	7. Chapter 7

A Most Unlikely Story – Part 7

Disclaimer: All names and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I am in no way receiving any money for this story. This is for the sole amusement of slash fans. This is rated NC-17 and as such should not be taken lightly. You have been warned.

Warning: Harry/Draco

* * *

As Voldemort's body slumped lifelessly to the ground, Harry was able to slowly replay the preceding events in his mind.

_Voldemort's hand lowered slightly and made contact with Harry's left thigh; Harry was shaking as the pale, smooth palm ghosted up towards his hips, the fingers lightly cupping and carressing his arse. He felt a hand grab his right and knew it someone else's._

_Voldemort's hands were cold and clammy – like fleshy marble. The hand in his own, however, was warm, nicely-calloussed, and a perfect fit. The hand in his own had moved over his body before and explored every inch of his skin. The hand in his own belonged to Draco Malfoy._

_Draco was scared that the entire plan would come crashing down around Harry and himself. The moment his hand had hold of Harry's, though, he breathed in as much as he could of Harry's immense strength, feeling the warmth of his lover's soul as it channeled into his own, cleansing away all of the hate and prejudice that had been corrupting it due to his family's one-sided beliefs. His mind focussed on the spell as he released a breath, voicing the damned incantation._

_Harry heard Draco speak the cruelest Unforgiveable and his heart raced as he wondered at whom the crafted hawthorn was pointing. And then he saw Voldemort fall._

Before he could compose a sentence or question directed toward the cunning man, Dumbledore appeared as if from nowhere, panic and horror in his strikingly-blue eyes. Harry had never seen so many of the wrinkles that lined the Headmaster's face; Dumbledore had never looked so old than he did at that particular moment.

The wise wizard seemed to relax immensely as he comprehended what must have happened. He took in the two boys' linked hands and realised that only someone completely in love with another could draw upon their very soul to enhance their magic. The prophecy had clearly stated that only Harry could kill Voldemort and so he had, through Draco's bravery and wiles.

Harry could see the relief spread across the old man's countenance and his eyes were a twinkling cerulean once again. He felt a short-lived breeze wrap around him as his clothes stitched themselves together on his body.

The sound of dozens of _pop_s was heard by all as Voldemort's scores of followers Apparated to the spot, their arms burning as the Dark Lord's death released them from the tattoo's black magic. The Order made quick work of rounding them up, releasing those they knew to be true spies for the Light.

Draco still stood beside Harry; when their eyes finally met after what felt like hours, he couldn't help but smile at the raven-haired man. How he longed to see those black tresses mussed and tousled after a shag!

'Why couldn't you tell me it was all a farce?' Harry asked him.

'Because, my love,' Draco sighed, cupping the back of Harry's head and stroking his thumb along the man's jawline. 'You're a rotten actor.'


End file.
